Always Losing, Never Winning
by iSplodeyedEmmett'sFridge
Summary: In a dystopian society, even the smallest of mistakes are not overlooked. When a mother of two is sent to be burned at the stake, her thoughts turn to memories of her past and the wretched people that caused her immense agony.


This is a piece I wrote for English class. I actually really love it. We were assigned to write a short story that captured a single moment in time and took place in a dystopia. There were some other requirements but I won't go into them. Enjoy!

Warning: Not for the weak stomached

_Always Losing, Never Winning_

"What did I do wrong? Where did I go wrong? Why is everything so wrong?" These are the questions that rushed through my panicked mind as I look down, in pity, upon the faces of my loved ones- At least those who I had thought loved me.

My limbs were bound to an upside down cross by barbed wire that penetrated my skin as if it were cheese cake. My head, hung in sorrow, mirrored those around me, but they were neither shameful nor depressed. My fellow Satanists heads were bowed in prayer. Their mouths slithered slightly, but their voices were loud and clear as they chanted for my murder.

I lifted my head slightly to see if those unseen were watching. As far as I could tell, they were not. My eyes did not matter though. None but those who were important did. They were almost always watching, and you could never tell.

The eyes, which are about to become soup in my skull, flit toward the wall. A wall I had always taken for granted. It's said to protect us and keep unknown creatures out of the sanctuary that make up our tiny and holy world. At this moment in time, I felt as if it were to keep us in. Give us no place to go, but straight into their arms. Run to them for help so they could use us, abuse us and take advantage of our desolate, isolated lives. We have no form of escape. There's no place to live for those like myself, the outcasts. Those who forget even the smallest of things are purified by fire.

Like everyone in this thought to be functional world, I believed they were trying to help. Growing up, I was always told of the lurid times. Centuries when those who did not believe ruled this gruesome planet we were now cursed to survive on. We were never given too much information on those times. Just enough to never wish to question those who know, ever again.

All of these things rapidly float through my overwhelmed brain as the preparations for the toast of my life are made. Eventually, my mind goes back to the wall and I panic for escape, "Perhaps I could just undo the wires. Maybe someone would help me slip away to avoid my demise. One of my friends… Maybe, just maybe, I could-" I cut my thoughts off right there and, in one cleansing breath, accepted my fate. "There are no maybes, only yes and no," I tell myself. . "There will never be escape." Tears begin to flow from my overactive eyes. "My children," a thought too painful to ponder, "will go through the rest of their fear filled and manipulated lives without a mother. Without me…"

I came to an acceptance as the dark priest stepped forward, as if this was the defining moment of my life. I realized that this, in fact, was the greatest moment of both my life and death; the moment in which I get to escape this dystopian society.

The man continued to chant in monotone. The words, so familiar, they refuse to reach my mind. I let out a sigh as the torch was lit.

"So close…"

The torch reflected off the bald man's head, who, wearing flowing black robes, stepped forward. Each thump on the rain sodden grass brought me closer to my release. I began to cackle loudly, welcoming the infinite blend of light and dark soon to be my emotional finale. He reached the alter, my very own cross, and silently dropped what represented all they knew of warmth. There was a quiet "Fweessssss" then a loud "swish" as the logs at my feet began to crack and sizzle.

The flames tickled my toes at first. It felt nice and toasty, almost homey. Then, the burning began. At first, so subtle, I barely noticed it over my giggles. It intensified as the fire climbed and charred my flesh at a miserably slow pace.

"Just end it already!" my mind silently shrieked.

I was not so lucky… The agony continued, but I did not, could not, speak a word. Rather, I continued to laugh maniacally. "Oh how coincidental. It was a horrible irony; me thinking of all my sins to the devil as I die. Giving them exactly what they wish. They are victorious and, once again, we lose. We always lose!Why do we...always...lose...?"


End file.
